Goodnight, Susan
by ronniekins77
Summary: Peter is the one Susan goes to when she has nightmares.


It was always the same routine.

Peter would lay awake at night, staring at the wall, waiting for her to enter the bedroom. Just as he thought that perhaps she wouldn't come in that night and sleep would come to take him, he would hear her say his name in whispered tones.

He'd sit up in bed, waiting for her to come to his side, tears running down her cheeks. "What is it, Su?" he would always say, even though he knew what was wrong. She had nightmares, horrible nightmares that made her afraid to be alone.

"What was it about?" he would always ask her, but she would bite her quivering lip and shake her head, as if it was too painful to talk about.

Then he'd sigh and pull back his covers so she could sleep with him in his bed. 

"Goodnight, Susan," he would tell her, even though she never responded.

At first, Peter was annoyed by her presence in his bed. He was ten years old and didn't appreciate his little sister hogging the blankets. He was always the one to end up cold and uncomfortable.

Their parents had found them one morning (because Edmund had made a fuss about it) and asked what had happened during the night. Peter had explained about Susan's nightmares. His mother and father had told him he was a sweet boy. He had responded that he was only being a good brother - after all, it's not as if he _wanted_ Susan in his bed.

But as Susan had more and more nightmares, and the more she slept in his bed, the more he got used to it.

Of course, Susan didn't come to his room every night, and it was on those nights that Peter couldn't sleep very well. You see, he was no longer comfortable sleeping with his blankets on, because he had become accustomed to their absence. The sound of her light breathing was gone, too, and now it was too quiet.

But then she would come back once again, crying softly, and the routine continued.

Soon, though, his parents informed Peter that it was no longer 'appropriate' that Susan sleep with him. They were growing up, and when brothers and sisters reached a certain age, they just didn't do those sorts of things.

Peter had nodded in understanding, but when Susan came to his room that night and he stared into her frightened eyes, he knew he couldn't just turn her away.

"What was it about?" he asked her, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"It's not important," she whimpered, climbing into the bed.

"Goodnight, Susan," he had said resignedly.

Peter had woken up earlier than usual the next morning and shook his sister awake. "Su, you have to go back to your own bed now, before mum and dad catch us," he whispered.

Susan had crept out of the room quietly.

Then came the day when they were sent away to the Professor's house and went through the wardrobe into a new world. The world of Narnia.

Peter would lay awake in his tent, waiting for Susan to come, but she never did.

He never asked her about it, telling himself that it was good thing indeed that she had stopped having nightmares.

Many years passed in Narnia, and soon Peter was an adult. If you had asked him why he never slept with his covers on, he wouldn't be able to tell you. All memories of London and sharing his bed with his sister had seeped out of his mind.

This is why, after he and his siblings had come back through the wardrobe and he had returned to being a child, he was surprised to hear a knock at his bedroom door.

"Who is it?" he asked, his voice cracking with tiredness.

The door opened and Susan stepped inside the room. Her pale face shone through the darkness, tearstains evident on her face. Peter stared at her.

It all came back to him and he said, without barely a thought, "What was it about?"

Susan looked over to the other side of the room, where Edmund was resting peacefully, not answering his question.

Finally, her eyes focused back on him, and she stood at the side of his bed patiently, waiting for him to draw back the covers.

"Su, I don't think we should do this," Peter said.

"Oh, come off it," she said softly, shooting another glance at Edmund.

"No, really, we shouldn't."

"Why not?"

Peter was silent. He was without an answer to that question. He had asked himself a dozen times that same question when his mother and father had told him that sleeping with Susan was no longer appropriate. He didn't see why it wasn't - he was comforted by her and she by him - siblings were supposed to comfort each other, weren't they?

He sighed, and pulled back the covers.

She smiled and crawled into the bed.

"Goodnight, Susan," he said, feeling defeated.

Peter didn't sleep that night. He came close, but it was then that Susan rolled over and rested her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around him.

His heart instantly began to pound against his chest and a surge of heat swelled throughout his entire body and he began to wonder if perhaps this was why his parents thought his sleeping with his sister was inappropriate. He definitely was not supposed to feel this way.

Even so, he was afraid to push her away from him. He didn't want to move.

He fixed his gaze upon the ceiling, as if this would be a distraction from all the emotions he was suddenly feeling. "Su?" he said timidly.

She responded by tilting her head upwards, and as she did so, her lips brushed gently across the bottom of his chin. His skin tingled.

Peter swallowed hard, tears of frustration brimming in his eyes.

The next night when Susan came to him, the rush of emotions came back. He was pleased to see her, and also scared and angry that he was pleased to see her.

He looked into her eyes, seeing all the pain in the world there. "No," he said softly, as she waited for him to pull back the covers.

"What?" she choked.

"No," he said again, turning over in the bed so that he wasn't facing her. 

"Peter, I don't understand!" Susan cried, and he could almost see the tears spill down her cheeks. "You can't do this to me, I can't bear it!"

"It's not appropriate," he whispered.

"But what about my nightmares?" she asked, her voice pleading.

Peter was on the verge of tears himself. "Grow up, Susan," he spat out.

"You're the one who needs to grow up!" she retorted. Her voice rang throughout his ears as if she was screaming, even though she was speaking softly. Each syllable was like a knife to his heart, but he refused to give in.

He sat up in the bed, glaring at her. "Do you even _have_ nightmares, Susan?" 

All the anger vanished from her eyes, replaced with incredulity. "You don't believe me? You think I'm making it up?"

"I don't know what to think."

"Of course they're real," Susan said, and the way in which she said it can not be described with words. But Peter knew she was telling the truth.

"Why didn't you come to me in Narnia?" he asked.

"Because," Susan said, "I didn't have nightmares there."

Peter was silent for awhile, then demanded, "What are they about?"

"Well, I -"

"Just _tell_ me."

Her eyes welled up with tears again and she sobbed, "You...they're about you!"

"What about me, Su?" he said softly.

"I - you, you're death! You - you die in them... and it's so _horrible_ and I just...I j-just can't _stand_ it..."

He caught her as she fell forward into his arms, crying hysterically. "Shhh," he said, stroking her black hair and kissing her cheeks as her body wracked with sobs. "It's okay...I'm here. I'm not going anywhere...quiet now..."

It was in that moment that Peter realized that it didn't matter if she was his sister. What mattered was that she must never feel this way. Ever. He never wanted to see her frightened or desperate or crying.

He wept with her, and held her tight, not wanting to let her go.

Wanting her to know that he would never leave her.

If that wasn't appropriate, he didn't know what was.

Peter didn't know how much time passed until the room grew quiet again, and he looked over at Edmund, who was snoring, God bless him.

"Su?" he said.

Silence was his only reply.

She had fallen asleep in his arms.

Peter stroked her hair once more and kissed the top of her head, a sense of peace washing over him.

"Goodnight, Susan."


End file.
